I don’t know whose idea it was to make the sweet substances that graced the biscuits of my Southern upbringing, but when I meet them in Heaven I’m going to shake their hand.

I say Heaven because whoever concocted blackberry jam, pear preserves, or other sweet fruity options must be currently receiving their eternal rewards.

Same goes for grape jelly, apple butter, and plum jam. Come to think of it, they’re all plum good.

From birth, most Southerners are fed a steady breakfast ...

The old question, “Where would you go first if you had a time machine?” is an easy one to answer for me. I’d visit all of my favorite long-since-gone childhood cafes, diners, and restaurants.

Not all, but one stop may soon be possible, without the help of H.G. Wells.

Growing up in Ashdown, Arkansas, we had some great places to eat. Ms. Mac’s served the best chicken fried steak ever. Mesamore’s had a plate lunch that was great. And the Tastee-Freez chili ...

In life, there are people and situations that stand at our door and ask to be let in.

We have a choice to make. Let them in or don’t answer the door.

Often, either choice has a profound impact on our lives. Many a person has spent the rest of their days wishing they’d done the opposite of what they did.

It might have been a romantic relationship they wished they would have started or continued – or one that was a bad ...

My first exposure to cooking in the great outdoors was in Cub Scouts. I saw biscuits made in a cast iron dutch oven over the coals of a campfire.

Until then, I had no idea that food could come from anywhere else other than mom’s kitchen or the school cafeteria.

Sure, I’d seen my grandfather make hamburgers over charcoal at those little highway roadside parks that the state built in the 50s and 60s, but cooking ...